Perlia: The Last Olympian
by Annabeth Chase-Jackson14
Summary: Prt3 in Perlia's adventure in taking on the Great Prophecy. Percy and Thalia are in it together-romantically and by law through THE prophecy where they're both the kids of it. Will romantic feelings flying from a grey eyed girl and red head interfere? Percy and Thalia's cooperation is necessary for the survival of the world. If things get bumpy for them can they still win this war?
1. Chapter 1

**Hi everyone, lovely to be writing again! I'd like to thank you all and remember, I don't own PJO.**

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**Thalia's P.O.V.**

Missions. That's all I've been up to lately.

Annabeth had gone back to the hunters since the gods have been pretty occupied lately. She's leading her hunters in their own missions against the titans but since then, no one has heard of them since. Iris Messaging wasn't exactly reliable because Iris, goddess of the rainbow, was busy with the load of messages people wanted to send. There were more important things to be discussed over IMs apparently. Being a child of the prophecy score you no bonus points in getting your calls accepted. Curse her, she'd taken a drachma from me when I tried to contact Annabeth for the seventh time in a row.

Percy was called to do a few even though he was spending the summer at home with his mom, Paul… and Rachel. From what I know he's been trying to live a normal life by spending time with her.

I don't like that.

That red headed heiress liked Percy and I could feel it. No matter how dense Percy was, she's probably dropped the biggest of hints right into his lap.

She better stay away from his lap.

"To your right, Sparky!" Clarisse shouted to me and I folded myself into a ball and rolled right into the path of the cyclops. I attempted to strike upwards at him with my spear but he ready for that. He swiftly kicked me in the thigh sending me flying backwards. My shoulder hit the brick of a building and just as Clarisse charged the monster and stabbed him with her electric spear I heard sirens. As the cyclops turned into dust she glanced at me with a look saying _We need to split_.

After running on a sore leg we took a rest once we'd gotten back to a part of Brooklyn I knew. We were near Percy's apartment.

"We need a rest," Clarisse huffed placing her hands behind her head.

"Come, on. I know a place." I told her and began walking in the direction my thoughts had been.

"A safe house?" Clarisse asked with a sliver of hope in her voice.

"Just about," I answered.

When we got there Clarisse shot me a confused look as we approached the apartment building. I pressed the buzzer temporarily ignoring her puzzled face.

_Yes?_ a man asked. This had to be a new doorman. The last one had a more nasal voice.

"I'm here to see Sally Jackson," I answered and a knowing look made its way across Clarisse's face.

_May I ask who you are?_

"Thalia," I answered.

_Last name?_ he obnoxiously asked. My last name caused more pain than usual lately because of my mother's location.

"Are you writing a book? Planning on internet stalking me? Just tell Sally that Thalia is here." I snapped. He said nothing else and after a moment or so we heard a buzz of the door being unlocked.

Walking in I saw the doorman standing next to his desk in the small lobby.

"I didn't know Percy had a girlfriend. I honestly thought he and Rachel were seeing each other," the man in a slightly apologetic way. My fists clenched, and I decided I definitely did not like the doorman.

"He's not who you should be mad at," Clarisse said in a hushed tone. We made our way to the elevator.

"Jackson is getting beat down when I see him." I said through clenched teeth. When we arrived at his mom's apartment she was already there with the door open.

"Thalia, sweety how are you?" she asked hugging me lightly then pulled back examining my wounds. Then turning to Clarisse she smiled warmly, "Come on in, girls! Hi, I'm Percy's mom, Sally." We walked in and she ushered us to the kitchen where she pulled a first aid kit from under the sink. After Clarisse introduced herself, Sally cleaned out wounds then gave us a little piece of ambrosia to nibble on.

"Where's Percy?" I asked her. She looked at me with tender eyes. "He's out at Rachel's. Thalia, you know I love you so believe me when I say that he loves you too. He uses Rachel as an escape from the world of the gods. She's an easy going friend and he just needs to retreat to that while he can." she said in a way that sounds like she's defending him, but knowing Sally I know she's just telling how it is.

"I'm being subjected to the same prophecy too and I'm not running to any easy girls." I mumbled. Sally tried to hide her smile.

"I said easy-going," she reminded me. Then clearing her throat she asked, "Now why are you two girls away from camp?"

I sighed. Sally wasn't going to like the news at all. "Grover's missing. He's been silent for too long."

Sally leaned against the counter. Grover had been Percy's best friend since the sixth grade and even saved his life by bringing him to camp.

"No, not poor Grover," she said. "Even after all he's accomplished he didn't come this far to not see it all through. He's fine. Percy's fine, so Grover has to be too? Their empathy link?" she asked us for reassurance. I'd been giving that a lot of thought. Percy had brought that up when we ran into each other at camp right when I came back from a mission and he was leaving back home from one. He still felt a faint hum and was positive that he wasn't dead.

"He's definitely alive. We're just trying to find him." I answered as best as I could.

"I'll be on the lookout too." Sally said.

I smiled thinking about how some mortals too were involved with this war between the titans and the gods. Then my smile shifted into a frown. My mom was also in this war but she was, knowingly or unknowingly fighting on the wrong side.

Just as I was beginning to ask Sally something about Percy the door to the apartment was being banged on.

"No one buzzed up, must be Percy!" Sally said and swiftly made her way to the door. I let my heart race at the thought of seeing him but it came to a crashing stop when I saw the frizzy red hair of a girl duck her way into the apartment, eyes locked on Sally.

"Rachel, what's-" Sally asked.

"It was time," she answered. Sally's face became expressionless except for the glimmer of sadness in her eye.

"He's gone off with Charles Beckendorf for their mission." Sally said what we all had guessed.

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**Percy's P.O.V.**

It was almost dark by the time we spotted our target. The _Princess Andromeda_ glowed on the horizon- a huge cruise ship lit up yellow and white. From a distance, you'd think it was just a party ship, not the headquarters for the Titan lord. Then as you get closer, you might notice a giant figurehead- a dark haired maiden in a Greek chiton, wrapped in chains with a look of horror on her face, as if she could smell the stench of monsters she was being forced to carry.

Seeing the ship again twisted my stomach in knots. I was already having an uncomfortable ride seeing as I was leaning back to keep myself on Blackjack, my pegasus, without having to wrap my arms around Beckendorf. Now seeing the ship I'd almost died twice on heading straight towards New York, my home, was not settling well with me.

"You know what to do?" Beckendorf yelled over the wind.

I nodded. We'd done dry runs at the dockyards in New Jersey, using abandoned ships as our targets. I knew how little time we would have. I also knew this was our best chance to end Kronos' invasion before it even started.

"Blackjack, set us down on the lowest stern deck."

_Gotcha, boss,_ he said. _Man I hate seeing that boat._

Three years ago, Blackjack had been enslaved on the _Princess Andromeda_ until he'd escaped with a little help from my friends and me. I figured he'd rather have his man braided like My Little Pony than be back here again.

"Don't wait for us," I told him.

_But boss-_

"Trust me," I said. "We'll get out by ourselves."

Blackjack nose dived us toward the lowest deck at speeds so fast you wouldn't have notice us pass. When he set down, I climbed off feeling a little queasy.

_Good luck, boss_, he said. _Don't let 'em turn you into horse meat!_

With that, my old friend flew off into the night. I took my pen and uncapped it, and Riptide sprang to full size- three feet of deadly Celestial bronze glowing in the dusk.

Beckendorf pulled a piece of paper from his pocket. I thought it was a map or something. Then I realized it was a photograph. He stared at it in the dim light- the smiling face of Silena Beauregard, daughter of Aphrodite. They'd started going out last summer after years of the rest of us saying, "Duh, you two like each other!" Even with all the dangerous missions, Beckendorf had been happier this summer than I'd ever seen him.

"We'll make it back to camp," I promised.

For a second I saw worry in his eyes. Then he put on his old confident smile.

"You bet," he said. "Let's go blow Kronos back into a million pieces."

Beckendorf lead the way, and for short moment everything had gone to plan so far. Then we heard voices above us.

"I don't care what your nose says!" snarled a half human, half dog voice- a telkhine. "The last time you smelled half-blood, it turned out to be a meatloaf sandwich!"

"Meatloaf sandwiches are good!" a second voice snarled. "But this is half-blood scent, I swear. They're on board!"

"Bah, your _brain _isn't on board!"

They continued to argue and Beckendorf pointed down stairs. We descended two flights of stairs as quietly as we could. The telkhines' voices started to fade.

Finally we came to a metal hatch and Beckendorf mouthed the words, "Engine room." It was locked but Beckendorf pulled some chain cutters out of his back and split the bolt like it was made of butter.

Inside, a row of yellow turbines the size of grain silos churned and hummed. Pressure gauges and computer terminals lined the opposite wall. A telkhine was hunched over a console, but he was so involved in his work , he didn't notice us. He was about five feet tall with slick black fur and stubby little feet. He had the head of a Doberman, but his clawed hands were almost human. He growled and muttered as he tapped on his keyboard. Maybe he was messaging his friends on .

I stepped forward and he tensed, probably smelling something was wrong. He leaped sideways toward a big red alarm button, but I blocked his path. He hissed and lunged at me, but one slice of Riptide and he was monster dust.

"One down," Beckendorf said. "About five thousand to go." He tossed me a jar of thick green liquid- Greek fire, one of the most dangerous magical substances in the world. The he threw me another essential tool of demigod heroes- duct tape.

"Slap that one on the console. I'll get the turbines."

We went to work. The room was hot and humid and in no time we were drenched in sweat.

The boat kept chugging along. Being the son of Poseidon and all, I have perfect bearings at sea. Don't ask me how but I could tell we were at 40.19° North, 71.90° West, making eighteen knots, which meant the ship would arrive in New York harbor by dawn. As you can tell, this is our only chance to stop it.

I had just attached a second jar of Greek fire to the control panels when I heard pounding feet on the metal steps- so many creatures coming down the stairwell I could hear them over the engines. Not a good sign.

I locked eyes with Beckendorf. "How much longer?"

"Too long." He tapped his watch, which was our remote control detonator. "I still have to wire the receiver and prime the charges. Ten more minutes at least."

Judging from the sound of footsteps we had about ten seconds.

"I'll distract them." I said. "Meet you at the rendezvous point."

"Percy-"

"Wish me luck." I told him.

He looked like he wanted to argue. The whole idea had been to get in and out unseen. But we're going to have to improvise.

"Good luck," he said.

I charged out the door.

Thalia's P.O.V.

Sally was driving Clarisse and I back to camp. I felt guilty about going back. Percy and Beckendorf are on their mission to knock out Kronos and his army in the ocean- the ocean being a key reason as to why I wasn't chosen for that. Annabeth and the hunters were doing Zeus knows what, and I'm on my way back home.

Clarisse and I had been out for almost two weeks and have helped with the war effort while we were out too. I guess we pulled double duty while looking for Grover but still. I was holding back. To be honest, I was dead on my feet through all of this. I'd refused to let myself get a night's rest.

I'd been having dreams. They mostly consisted of my mom. You know the comic of superman? I've always related to that comic but not from the hero's side. Lex Luther's side.

My mom was Lionel Luther, the rich and powerful TV actress and news reporter. She could never love me because my birth had driven my father away. Gods couldn't be a direct part in their children's lives. They especially couldn't when it came to the Big Three and even more after the Great Prophecy was given. She hated me. Then dad came back almost a new man, more family oriented but strict. Mom had Jason and dad was forced to leave again.

Mom cursed the gods, especially Hera and took out her hate on me and Jason. I practically raised him and hid from mom's psychotic break. I swear she'd try to kill us but then would snap back to reality just as I stopped her. Finally she'd started take the medicines and started making an effort. That was only so she could let Jason go missing leaving me to blame myself.

I was having dream from the past and present. All of them had to do with her and a little of Jason. She'd say things in the dreams as if she were talking to me- other times, to herself. _My time is coming. Soon I'll be as great as the gods._

It was painstakingly clear: Luke remembered and was using my mother's biggest insecurity. Luke promised her the life of a god or more, but for what?

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	2. Chapter 2 Beckendorf

**Thanks everyone for waiting. 1) I've started my senior year, yay! 2) I'm getting a job, yay! 3) A friend of mine has taken his life. Please, if you're out there with depression or struggling with something, talk to someone. Talk to me, I'm always a message away. **

**Thanks, enjoy! **

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**Percy's P.O.V.**

How am I?

Battling a heavy weight sea champ of a crustacean, not being able to lay a blow to Kronos, and having your soul seep out of you from a cut to your shoulder from Kronos' s scythe was how my night was going.

I'll let you be the judge.

"A shame to kill you know," Kronos mused, "before the final plan unfolds. I would love to see the terror on your face when you realize how I will destroy Olympus."

"You'll never get this boat to Manhattan." My arm was throbbing. Black spots danced in my vision.

"And why would that be?" Kronos' golden eyes glittered. His face- Luke's face- seemed like a mask, unnatural and lit from behind by some evil power. "Perhaps you are counting on your friend with the explosives?"

He looked down at the pool and called, "Nakamura!"

A teenage guy in full Greek armor pushed through the crowd. His left was covered in an eye patch. I knew him, of course: Ethan Nakamura, the son of Nemesis. We'd saved his life in the Labyrinth last summer and this is how he repaid us, the little punk helped to finally raise Kronos.

"Success, my lord," Ethan called. "We found him just as we were told." Two giants came forward dragging Beckendorf. He'd had a swollen eye and cuts and bruises all over him. His armor was gone and his shirt was nearly torn off.

"No!" I yelled.

Beckendorf met my eyes. He glanced at his hand then gave me a hard stare. His hand… Is it possible he was able to arm the explosives? Surely the monsters would've dismantled them right away.

"Can we eat him now?" a monster asked.

"Soon." Kronos promised. "Are you sure he didn't get to set the explosives?"

"He was going _toward_ the engine room, my lord."

"How do you know that?"

"Er…" Ethan shifted uncomfortably. "He was headed in that direction. And he told us. His bag is still full of explosives."

So they didn't unarm the panels. The explosives were set and ready to go. Slowly, but surely, I'm beginning to understand. Beckendorf fooled them. He made it seem as if he hadn't reached the engine room yet. When he realized he was going to be captured he made it look like he had come from the opposite direction. Then convinced them he hadn't gotten to the engine room yet.

The Greek fire must still be primed! Right? But what good is it to us now? We're still on the ship and in no way ready to get off and detonate the bomb.

Kronos hesitated.

_Buy the story_, I prayed. The pain in my arm was so bad I could barely stand.

"Open his bag," Kronos ordered.

One of the giants ripped the explosives bag from Beckendorf's shoulder. He peeked inside, grunted, and turned it upside down. Panicked the monsters surged backwards. Had that bag really been full of Greek fire, we would've all blown up. But what fell out were a dozen cans of peaches.

I could hear Kronos breathing, trying to control his anger.

Where the heck did Beckendorf get the peaches?

"And did you, perhaps, send someone to actually **CHECK THE ENGINE ROOM**?"

Ethan scrambled back in terror, then turned on his heels and ran.

I cursed silently. Now we only had minutes before the bombs were disarmed. I caught Beckendorf's eyes again and silently asked a question: _How long_?

He cupped his fore finger and thumb: _zero_. There was no delay. There would be no way for us to get away far enough to detonate the charge.

Kronos turned toward me with a crooked smile. "You'll have to excuse my incompetent help, Percy Jackson. But it doesn't matter. We have you now. We've known you were coming for weeks." He held out his hand dangling a little silver bracket with a scythe charm on it.

The wound in my arm was sapping my ability to think, but I muttered, "Communication device… Spy at camp."

Kronos chuckled. "You can't count on friends, Percy. They will always let you down. Luke learned that lesson the hard way. Now drop your sword and surrender to me, or you friend dies."

Had I been in better condition, I would have had some witty remark like, _Ha! You know me better than that by now, I'm sure _or _Adios, gramps!_ Seeing how I can barely keep my eyes open and wasn't sure how I was going to save Beckendorf stopped me.

Beckendorf mouthed a word: _go_.

I shook my head. I couldn't leave him. Beckendorf raised the arm that wasn't being held slowly to his other hand.

"What issss he doing? What isss that on hisss wrissst?"

Beckendorf squeezed his eyes tight. I had no choice. I threw my sword at Kronos like a javelin. It bounced harmlessly off his chest but it did startle him. I pushed through a crowd then jumped over ship. Willing the currents to take me far away. Far from the invincible Kronos, far from the dreaded mission _**BOOM!**_\- and far from the friend who I'd left to die.

**Thalia's P.O.V.**

Currently, I'm sitting in my cabin sulking. Chiron refuses to tell me about the Great Prophecy. Typhon is awake, the gods are away from Olympus, Percy has yet to return from his mission. Things are becoming too real too fast.

Iris Messages still aren't going through. I'd bet all my drachmas that Annabeth knows the Great Prophecy word from word. If I could just contact her somehow... Would she even tell me? I know she'd bend the rules to an extent for me and maybe even more for Percy.

I'm not stupid. Annabeth has some type of connection, some bond formed with Percy before he ever became my boyfriend. I love them both so much but I know Percy and I belong to each other. We are, what the Aphrodite cabin started calling us, the power couple of the century, maybe even millennia. The children of the prophecy, two children of the big three could be unstoppable.

I think that's what Luke is scared of most of all.

**Percy's P.O.V.**

Demigod dreams suck.

The thing is, they're never just dreams. They've got to be visions, omens, and all that other mystical stuff that makes my brain hurt.

I dreamed I was in a dark palace on the top of a mountain. Unfortunately, I recognized: the palace of the titans on top of Mount Othrys, otherwise known as Mount Tamalpais, in California. The main pavilion was open to the night, ringed with black Greek columns and statues of the Titans. Torchlight glowed against the black marble floor. In the center of the room, an armored giant struggled the weight of swirling funnel cloud- Atlas holding up the sky.

Two other giant men stood nearby over a brazier, studying the images in the flames.

"Quite an explosion," one said. He wore black armour studded with silver dots like a starry night. His face was covered in a war helm with ram's horn curling on either side.

"It doesn't matter," the other said. This titan was dressed in golden robes, with golden eyes like Kronos. His entire body glowed. He reminded me of Apollo, god of the sun, except the titan's light was harsher and his expressions crueller. "The gods have answered the challenge. Soon they will be destroyed."

"I will go east to marshal our forces," the golden Titan said. "Krios, you shall remain and guard Mount Othrys."

The ram horn dude grunted. "I always get the stupid jobs. Lord of the South. Lord of Constellations. Now I get to babysit Atlas while you have all the fun."

Under the whirlwind of clouds, Atlas bellowed in agony, "Let me out, curse you! I am your greatest warrior. Take my burden so I may fight!"

"Quiet!" the golden Titan roared. "You had your chance, Atlas. You failed. Kronos likes you just where you are. As for you, Krios, do your duty."

"And if you need more warriors?" Krios asked. "Our treacherous nephew in the tuxedo will not do you much good in a fight."

The golden Titan laughed. "Don't worry about him. Besides, the gods can barely handle our first little challenge. They have no idea how many others we have in store. Mark my words, in a few days' time, Olympus will be in ruins, and we will meet here again to celebrate the dawn of the Sixth Age!"

The golden Titan erupted into flames and disappeared.

"Oh, sure," Krios grumbled. "He gets to erupt into flames. I get to wear these stupid ram's horns."

The scene shifted. Now I was outside the pavilion, hiding in the shadows of a Greek column. A boy stood next to me, eavesdropping on the Titans. He had dark silky hair, pale skin, and dark clothes—my friend Nico di Angelo, the son of Hades.

He looked straight at me, his expression grim. "You see, Percy?" he whispered. "You're running out of time. Do you really think you can beat them without my plan?"

His words washed over me as cold as the ocean floor, and my dreams went black.

"Percy?" a deep voice said. My head felt like it had been microwaved in aluminum foil. I opened my eyes and saw a huge shadowy figure looming over me.

"Beckendorf?" I asked hopefully.

"No, brother."

My eyes refocused. I was looking at a Cyclops—a misshapen face, ratty brown hair, one big brown

eye full of concern. "Tyson?"

My brother broke into a toothy grin. "Yay! Your brain works!"

I wasn't so sure. My body felt weightless and cold. My voice sounded wrong. I could hear Tyson, but it was more like I was hearing vibrations inside my skull, not the regular sounds. I sat up, and a gossamer sheet floated away. I was on a bed made of silky woven kelp, in a room paneled with abalone shell. Glowing pearls the size of basketballs floated around the ceiling, providing light.

I was under water.

Now, being the son of Poseidon and all, I was okay with this. I can breathe underwater just fine, and my clothes don't even get wet unless I want them to. But it was still a bit of a shock when a hammerhead shark drifted through the bedroom window, regarded me, and then swam calmly out the opposite side of the room.

"Where—"

"Daddy's palace," Tyson said.

Under different circumstances, I would've been excited. I'd never visited Poseidon's realm, and I'd been dreaming about it for years. But my head hurt. My shirt was still speckled with burn marks from the explosion. My arm and leg wounds had healed—just being in the ocean can do that for me, given enough time—but I still felt like I'd been trampled by a Laistrygonian soccer team in cleats.

"How long—"

"We found you last night," Tyson said, "sinking through the water."

"The Princess Andromeda?"

"Went ka-boom," Tyson confirmed.

"Beckendorf was on board. Did you find . . ."

Tyson's face darkened. "No sign of him. I am sorry, brother."

I stared out the window into deep blue water. Beckendorf was supposed to go to college in the fall. He had a girlfriend, lots of friends, his whole life ahead of him. He couldn't be gone. Maybe he'd made it off the ship like I had. Maybe he'd jumped over the side . . . and what? He couldn't have survived a hundred-foot fall into the water like I could. He couldn't have put enough distance between himself and the explosion.

I knew in my gut he was dead. He'd sacrificed himself to take out the Princess Andromeda, and I had abandoned him.

I thought about my dream: the Titans discussing the explosion as if it didn't matter, Nico di Angelo warning me that I would never beat Kronos without following his plan—a dangerous idea I'd been avoiding for more than a year.

A distant blast shook the room. Green light blazed outside, turning the whole sea as bright as noon.

"What was that?" I asked.

Tyson looked worried. "Daddy will explain. Come, he is blowing up monsters."

The palace might have been the most amazing place I'd ever seen if it hadn't been in the process of getting destroyed. We swam to the end of a long hallway and shot upward on a geyser. As we rose over the rooftops I caught my breath—well, if you can catch your breath underwater.

The palace was as big as the city on Mount Olympus, with wide courtyards, gardens, and columned pavilions. The gardens were sculpted with coral colonies and glowing sea plants. Twenty or thirty buildings were made of abalone, white but gleaming with rainbow colors. Fish and octopi darted in and out of the windows. The paths were lined with glowing pearls like Christmas lights.

The main courtyard was filled with warriors—mermen with fish tails from the waist down and human

bodies from the waist up, except their skin was blue, which I'd never known before. Some were tending the wounded. Some were sharpening spears and swords. One passed us, swimming in a hurry. His eyes were bright green, like that stuff they put in glo-sticks, and his teeth were shark teeth. They don't show you stuff like that in The Little Mermaid.

Outside the main courtyard stood large fortifications—towers, walls, and antisiege weapons—but most of these had been smashed to ruins. Others were blazing with a strange green light that I knew well—Greek fire, which can burn even underwater.

Beyond this, the sea floor stretched into gloom. I could see battles raging—flashes of energy, explosions, the glint of armies clashing. A regular human would've found it too dark to see. Heck, a regular human would've been crushed by the pressure and frozen by the cold. Even my heat-sensitive eyes couldn't make out exactly what was going on.

At the edge of the palace complex, a temple with a red coral roof exploded, sending fire and debris streaming in slow motion across the farthest gardens. Out of the darkness above, an enormous form appeared—a squid larger than any skyscraper. It was surrounded by a glittering cloud of dust—at least I thought it was dust, until I realized it was a swarm of mermen trying to attack the monster. The squid descended on the palace and swatted its tentacles, smashing a whole column of warriors. Then a brilliant

arc of blue light shot from the rooftop of one of the tallest buildings. The light hit the giant squid, and the monster dissolved like food coloring in water.

"Daddy," Tyson said, pointing to where the light had come from.

"He did that?" I suddenly felt more hopeful. My dad had unbelievable powers. He was the god of the sea. He could deal with this attack, right? Maybe he'd let me help.

"Have you been in the fight?" I asked Tyson in awe. "Like bashing heads with your awesome Cyclops strength and stuff?"

Tyson pouted, and immediately I knew I'd asked a bad question, "I have been . . . fixing weapons," he mumbled. "Come. Let's go find Daddy."

I know this might sound weird to people with, like, regular parents, but I'd only seen my dad four or five times in my life, and never for more than a few minutes. The Greek gods don't exactly show up for their kids' basketball games. Still, I thought I would recognize Poseidon on sight.

I was wrong.

I was searching for a big guy with a good tan and a black beard, wearing Bermuda shorts and a Hawaiian shirt.

There was nobody like that. One guy was a merman with two fish tails instead of one. His skin was green, his armor studded with pearls. His black hair was tied in a ponytail, and he looked young—though it's hard to tell with non-humans. They could be a thousand years old or three. Standing next to him was an old man with a bushy white beard and gray hair. His battle armor seemed to weigh him down. He had green eyes and smile wrinkles around his eyes, but he wasn't smiling now. He was studying the map and

leaning on a large metal staff. To his right stood a beautiful woman in green armor with flowing black hair and strange little horns like crab claws. And there was a dolphin—just a regular dolphin, but it was staring at the map intently.

"Delphin," the old man said. "Send Palaemon and his legion of sharks to the western front. We have to neutralize those leviathans."

The dolphin spoke in a chattering voice, but I could understand it in my mind: Yes, lord! It sped away.

I looked in dismay at Tyson, then back at the old man.

It didn't seem possible, but . . . "Dad?" I asked.

The old man looked up. I recognized the twinkle in his eyes, but his face . . . he looked like he'd aged forty years.

"Hello, Percy."

"What—what happened to you?" After saying it, I realized that's not socially acceptable to say to anyone, especially a god. Tyson nudged me shaking his head so hard I thought it would fall off. It was weird to have my baby cyclops brother telling me I did a "no-no."

Thankfully, Poseidon didn't look offended.

"It's alright, Tyson." he said. "Percy, excuse my appearance, but the war has been hard on me."

"But you're immortal," I said quietly. "You can look… anyway you want."

"I reflect the state of realm," he said. "And right now that state is quite grim. Percy, I should introduce you- I'm afraid you just missed my lieutenant Delphin, god of the dolphins. This is my, er, wife, Amphitrite. My dear-"

The lady in green armor stared at me coldly, then crossed her arms and said, "Excuse me, my lord. I am needed in the battle."

She swam away.

I felt pretty awkward, but I guess I couldn't blame her. I'd never thought about it much, but my dad had an immortal wife. All his romances with mortals, including with my mom… well, Amphitrite probably didn't like that much.

Poseidon cleared his throat. "Yes, well . . . and this is my son Triton. Er, my other son."

"Your son and heir," the green dude corrected. His double fish tails swished back and forth. He smiled at me, but there was no friendliness in his eyes. "Hello, Perseus Jackson. Come to help at last?"

He acted like I was late or lazy. If you can blush underwater, I probably did.

"Tell me what to do," I said.

Triton smiled like that was a cute suggestion—like I was a slightly amusing dog that had barked for him or something. He turned to Poseidon. "I will see to the front line, Father. Don't worry. I will not fail."

He nodded politely to Tyson. How come I didn't get that much respect? Then he shot off into the water.

Poseidon sighed. He raised his staff, and it changed into his regular weapon—a huge three-pointed trident. The tip glowed with blue light, and the water around it boiled with energy.

"I'm sorry about that," he told me.

A huge sea serpent appeared from above us and spiraled down toward the roof. It was bright orange with a fanged mouth big enough to swallow a gymnasium.

Hardly looking up, Poseidon pointed his trident at the beast and zapped it with blue energy. Ka-boom! The monster burst into a million goldfish, which all swam off in terror.

"My family is anxious," Poseidon continued as if nothing had happened. "The battle against Oceanus is going poorly."

He pointed to the edge of the mosaic. With the butt of his trident he tapped the image of a merman larger than the rest, with the horns of a bull. He appeared to be riding a chariot pulled by crawfish, and instead of a sword he wielded a live serpent.

"Oceanus," I said, trying to remember. "The Titan of the sea?"

Poseidon nodded. "He was neutral in the first war of gods and Titans. But Kronos has convinced him to fight. This is . . . well, it's not a good sign. Oceanus would not commit unless he was sure he could pick the winning side."

"He looks stupid," I said, trying to sound upbeat. "I mean, who fights with a snake?"

"Daddy will tie it in knots," Tyson said firmly.

Poseidon smiled, but he looked weary. "I appreciate your faith. We have been at war almost a year now. My powers are taxed. And still he finds new forces to throw at me—sea monsters so ancient I had forgotten about them."

I heard an explosion in the distance. About half a mile away, a mountain of coral disintegrated under the weight of two giant creatures. I could dimly make out their shapes. One was a lobster. The other was a giant humanoid like a Cyclops, but he was surrounded by a flurry of limbs. At first I thought he wearing a bunch of giant octopi. Then I realized they were his own arms—a hundred flailing, fighting arms.

"Briares!" I said.

I was happy to see him, but he looked like he was fighting for his life. He was the last of his kind—a Hundred-Handed One, cousin of the Cyclopes. We'd saved him from Kronos's prison last summer, and I knew he'd come to help Poseidon, but I hadn't heard of him since.

"He fights well," Poseidon said. "I wish we had a whole army like him, but he is the only one."

I watched as Briares bellowed in rage and picked up the lobster, which thrashed and snapped its pincers. He threw it off the coral mountain, and the lobster disappeared into the darkness. Briares swam after it, his hundred arms spinning like the blades of a motorboat.

"Percy, we may not have much time," my dad said. "Tell me of your mission. Did you see Kronos?"

I told him everything. I choked up a bit when it came to Beckendorf's part of it all. Seeing the battle down here, though, I realized Beckendorf was far from being the first death in this war. I had never felt so angry and helpless.

"You've bought our side some time." Poseidon said.

"There were demigods on that ship," I said, thinking of the kid I'd seen in the stairwell. Somehow I'd allowed myself to concentrate on the monsters and Kronos. I'd convinced myself that destroying their ship was all right because they were evil, they were sailing to attack my city, and besides, they couldn't really be permanently killed. Monsters just vaporized and re-formed eventually. But demigods…

Poseidon put his hand on my shoulder. "Percy, there were only a few demigod warriors aboard that

ship, and they all chose to battle for Kronos. Perhaps some heeded your warning and escaped. If they did not… they chose their path."

"They were brainwashed!" I said. "Now they're dead and Kronos is still alive. That's supposed to make me feel better?"

I glared at the mosaic—little tile explosions destroying tile monsters. It seemed so easy when it was just a picture.

Tyson put his arm around me. If anybody else had tried that, I would've pushed him away, but Tyson was too big and stubborn. He hugged me whether I wanted it or not. "Not your fault, brother. Kronos does not explode good. Next time we will use a big stick."

"Percy," my father said. "Beckendorf's sacrifice wasn't in vain. You have scattered the invasion force. New York will be safe for a time, which frees the other Olympians to deal with the bigger threat."

"The bigger threat?" I thought about what the golden Titan had said in my dream: The gods have answered the challenge. Soon they will be destroyed.

A shadow passed over my father's face. "You've had enough sorrow for one day. Ask Chiron when you return to camp."

"Return to camp? But you're in trouble here. I want to help!"

"You can't, Percy. Your job is elsewhere."

I couldn't believe I was hearing this. I looked at Tyson for backup.

My brother chewed his lip. "Daddy . . . Percy can fight with a sword. He is good."

"I know that," Poseidon said gently.

"Dad, I can help," I said. "I know I can. You're not going to hold out here much longer."

A fireball launched into the sky from behind the enemy lines. I thought Poseidon would deflect it or something, but it landed on the outer corner of the yard and exploded, sending mermen tumbling through the water. Poseidon winced as if he'd just been stabbed.

"Return to camp," he insisted. "And tell Chiron it is time."

"For what?"

"You and Thalia must hear the prophecy. The entire prophecy."


	3. Chapter 3 The Great Prophecy

**Hello! Long-time no-write, huh? Sorry! I've been ever busy with school, activities, life, boys, work, and college prep! I hope to be writing a lot more! I am always working it seems but I found time today, didn't I? If I have any Iowa Hawkeyes reading this, what's up future schoolmates!**

**I don't own PJO**

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**Percy's P.O.V.**

If you want to be popular at Camp Half-Blood, don't come back from a mission with bad news. Word of my arrival spread as soon as I walked out of the ocean. The lookout on duty was Connor Stoll from the Hermes cabin. When he spotted me, he got so excited he fell out of his tree. Then he blew the conch horn to signal the camp and ran to greet me.

Connor had a crooked smile that matched his crooked sense of humor. He's a pretty nice guy, but you should always keep one hand on your wallet when he's around, and do not, under any circumstances, give him access to shaving cream unless you want to find your sleeping bag full of it. He's got curly brown hair and is a little shorter than his brother, Travis, which is the only way I can tell them apart. They are both so unlike my old enemy Luke it's hard to believe they're all sons of Hermes.

"Percy!" he yelled. "What happened? Where's Beckendorf?" Then he saw my expression, and his smile melted. "Oh, no. Poor Silena. Holy Zeus, when she finds out . . ." Together we climbed the sand dunes. A few hundred yards away, people were already streaming toward us, smiling and excited. Percy's back, they were probably thinking. He's saved the day! Maybe he brought souvenirs! I stopped at the dining pavilion and waited.

I waited mainly for three people: Silena, Thalia, and Chiron. Silena needed to be told about Beckendorf in private, Connor knew but maybe I could tell her in a place that wasn't in front of the whole camp.

Chiron galloped into the pavilion first, which was easy for him since he's a white stallion from the waist down. His beard had grown wilder over the summer. He wore a green T-shirt that said MY OTHER CAR IS A CENTAUR and a bow slung over his back. "Percy!" he said. "Thank the gods. But where . . ."

Thalia ran in next. She looked a little more tan than usual. Her usually short and spiky black hair was longer and hung loosely. She wore no eyeliner and her eyes still popped with their intense electric blue color. I felt my stomach tighten upon seeing these changes. While I had been living out my normal summer at home, I didn't think I'd be missing so much of Thalia's life. We thought space would be good and she found camp to be her home, but seeing her now makes me wish I did this past summer a little differently.

Thalia left out a sigh and hugged me, "I'm glad you're fine." she said and pulled back. Something was bothering her, but she was trying to hide it or at least not deal with it. "So, what happened?"

Before I could answer, Silena Beauregard pushed through the forming crowd with unkept hair and was wearing no make-up which was really unlike her. "Where's Charlie?" she demanded, looking around like he might be hiding.

I glanced at Chiron helplessly. The old centaur cleared his throat. "Silena, my dear, let's talk about this at the Big House—" "No," she muttered. "No. No." She started to cry, and the rest of us stood around, too stunned to speak. We'd already lost so many people over the summer, but this was the worst. With Beckendorf gone, it felt like someone had stolen the anchor for the entire camp.

Finally Clarisse from the Ares cabin came forward. She put her arm around Silena. They had one of the strangest friendships ever—a daughter of the war god and a daughter of the love goddess—but ever since Silena had given Clarisse advice last summer about her first boyfriend, Clarisse had decided she was Silena's personal bodyguard. Clarisse was dressed in her blood-red combat armor, her brown hair tucked into a bandanna. She was as big and beefy as a rugby player, with a permanent scowl on her face, but she spoke gently to Silena. "Come on, girl," she said. "Let's get to the Big House. I'll make you some hot chocolate." Everyone turned and wandered off in twos and threes, heading back to the cabins. Nobody was excited to see me now. Nobody wanted to hear about the blown-up ship.

Chiron put a hand on my shoulder. "I'm sure you did everything you could, Percy. Will you tell us what happened?" I didn't want to go through it again, but I told them the story, including my dream about the Titans.

Chiron gazed down at the valley. "We must call a war council immediately, to discuss this spy, and other matters."

"Poseidon mentioned another threat," I said. "Something even bigger than the Princess Andromeda. I thought it might be that challenge the Titan had mentioned in my dream."

Chiron looked troubled. "We will discuss that also," Chiron promised.

"One more thing." I took a deep breath. "When I talked to my father, he said to tell you it's time. We need to know the full prophecy." Chiron's shoulders sagged, but he didn't look surprised.

"I've dreaded this day. Very well. Thalia, Percy, it's time you know the truth—all of it. Let's go to the attic."

Chiron maybe made it sound like it would be a group effort to go into the attic and retrieve the prophecy, but he was definitely not going with us. "Go up there, and look at the Oracle's attire. You'll find the prophecy." Chiron instructed. "Gee, thanks." Thalia's sarcasm only brought a faint smile to our teacher's face.

As we ascended the stairs I felt like now was my only chance to talk to Thalia. "Thals-" I started when she said. "Percy." She didn't say it in the same tone I had though. "Yeah?" I asked. She sucked in a low breath then asked, "How was your summer?"

"Uh, good- it was fine." I licked my lips trying to catch up to where her thoughts were heading.

"That's good." she said without even glancing at me since we made our way to the attic.

"Okay. Thalia, you can talk to me." I whispered. Why I am whispering, I don't know. It just felt like something heavy was coming.

"Why did you run away?" she asked just as she made it into the attic. Her electric eyes stared down deep into mine. I stopped on the ladder looking up at her speechless. I maybe stayed that way for two whole minutes, and still, Thalia didn't look away from my eyes.

"What?" was all I came up with.

"Why did you leave for the summer?" she asked. I motioned for her to let me finish climbing up and she moved back to give me room to step onto the attic floor.

Then when we were as level as we can be with our six inch height difference, I answered, "To spend my last summer as a normal almost sophomore boy living with his mom and his step-dad." I answered. I felt like I told her this before.

"What I don't understand is how you can just leave and try to pretend a war isn't happening and that there aren't a lot of people and creatures and gods counting on you." Ouch?

"Thalia, the only difference between you and me is that my home doesn't have our problems constantly thrown in my face." I reminded her.

"But mine does. Tell me, Percy, how come you were so ready to fight your father's battles but not your own? You couldn't stand to not be apart of his fight but you run from ours?" Thalia's expression seemed vulnerable and hurt.

"Thalia-" I started.

"I just thought you should know that you aren't the only one going through the same things. But maybe it's because I have more at stake here than you do. At least for now." she started walking towards the Oracle and scanned her over with her eyes as I stood there dumbfounded once again.

I didn't even realize that Thalia had found the prophecy and left me behind in the attic. I made my way down to the rec room. The senior counselors had gathered around the ping-pong table. I couldn't tell you why, but the rec room had become camp's informal headquarters for war councils. When I came in it looked like there was a shouting match going on. I was shocked to see Thalia letting this happen but she was leaning against the wall silently watching, but not fully paying attention.

Clarisse was still in full battle gear. Her electric spear was strapped to her back. (Actually, her second electric spear, since I'd broken the first one. She called the spear "Maimer." Behind her back, everybody else called it "Lamer.") She had her boar-shaped helmet under one arm and a knife at her belt. She was in the midst of yelling at Michael Yew, the new head counselor for Apollo, which looked kind of funny since Clarisse was a foot taller. Michael had taken over the Apollo cabin after Lee Fletcher died in battle last summer. Michael stood four feet six, with another two feet of attitude. He reminded me of a ferret, with a pointy nose and scrunched-up features—either because he scowled so much or because he spent too much time looking down the shaft of an arrow. "It's our loot!" he yelled, standing on his tiptoes so he could get in Clarisse's face. "If you don't like it, you can kiss my quiver!" Around the table, people were trying not to laugh—the Stoll brothers, Pollux from the Dionysus cabin, Malcolm from Athena, Katie Gardner from Demeter. Even Jake Mason, the hastily appointed new counselor from Hephaestus, managed a faint smile. Only Silena Beauregard didn't pay any attention. She sat beside Clarisse and stared vacantly at the Ping-Pong net. Her eyes were red and puffy. A cup of hot chocolate sat untouched in front of her. It seemed unfair that she had to be here. I couldn't believe Clarisse and Michael standing over her, arguing about something as stupid as loot, when she'd just lost Beckendorf.

"STOP IT!" I yelled. "What are you guys doing?"

Clarisse glowered at me. "Tell Michael not to be a selfish jerk."

"Oh, that's perfect, coming from you," Michael said.

"The only reason I'm here is to support Silena!" Clarisse shouted. "Otherwise I'd be back in my cabin."

"What are you talking about?" I demanded. Pollux cleared his throat. "Clarisse has refused to speak to any of us, until her, um, issue is resolved. She hasn't spoken for three days."

"It's been wonderful," Travis Stoll said wistfully.

"What issue?" I asked.

Clarisse turned to Chiron. "You're in charge, right? Does my cabin get what we want or not?"

Chiron shuffled his hooves. "My dear, as I've already explained, Michael is correct. Apollo's cabin has the best claim. Besides, we have more important matters—"

"Sure," Clarisse snapped. "Always more important matters than what Ares needs. We're just supposed to show up and fight when you need us, and not complain!"

"That would be nice," Connor Stoll muttered.

Clarisse gripped her knife. "Maybe I should ask Mr. D—"

"As you know," Chiron interrupted, his tone slightly angry now, "our director, Dionysus, is busy with the war. He can't be bothered with this."

"I see," Clarisse said. "And the senior counselors? Are any of you going to side with me?" Nobody was smiling now. None of them met Clarisse's eyes.

"Fine." Clarisse turned to Silena. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to get into this when you've just lost . . . Anyway, I apologize. To you. Nobody else." Silena didn't seem to register her words. Clarisse threw her knife on the Ping-Pong table. "All of you can fight this war without Ares. Until I get satisfaction, no one in my cabin is lifting a finger to help. Have fun dying."

The counselors were all too stunned to say anything as Clarisse stormed out of the room.

Finally Michael Yew said, "Good riddance."

"Are you kidding?" Katie Gardner protested. "This is a disaster!"

"She can't be serious," Travis said. "Can she?"

Chiron sighed. "Her pride has been wounded. She'll calm down eventually." But he didn't sound convinced. "Now," Chiron continued, "if you please, counselors. Percy has joined us at last and he and Thalia will read the Great Prophecy." I glanced warily at Thalia who walked over to me with a small rolled up parchment.

"I haven't looked at it yet, I didn't want to do it on my own." She said low only for me to hear. I nodded slightly with understanding. She unrolled it and with shaking hands held it so we both could read.

"_A halfblood of the eldest dog/god,"_ We stopped there because I already messed it up. "A halfblood of the eldest god," Thalia corrected. Being dyslexic is a trait of demigods, but when I'm nervous it gets a whole lot worse. "_A halfblood of the eldest god, shall reach sixteen against all odds... And see the world in endless sleep-" _Thalia and I both stopped there. That line alone scared the Tartarus out of me but the next line really put a chill in my bones.

"_The hero's soul, cursed blade shall reap." _Suddenly Riptide seemed heavier in my pocket. A curse blade? Chiron had once told me Riptide brought many people sorrow. Was it possible my own sword could get me killed? And how could the world fall into endless sleep, unless that meant death?

"Read the rest," Chiron urged. My mouth felt like it was full of sand as I read the last two lines.

"_A single choice shall end his days," _Thalia had stopped reading. "_Olympus to pursue- perverse… Olympus to preserve or raze." _

The room was silent. Finally Connor Stoll said, "Raise is good, isn't it?" "Not raise," Silena said. Her voice was hollow, but I was startled to hear her speak at all. "R-a-z-e means destroy."

"Obliterate," Malcolm said. "Turn to rubble."

"Got it." My heart felt like lead. "Thanks."

Everybody was looking at me—with concern, or pity, or maybe a little fear. Then they would look at Thalia with pity. Thalia was gripping the edge of the ping-pong table with such intensity that I was worried for the table.

Chiron closed his eyes as if he were saying a prayer. In horse form, his head almost brushed the lights in the rec room. "You see now why we thought it best not to tell you the whole prophecy. You've had enough on your shoulders—"

"Without realizing I was going to die in the end anyway?" I said. "Yeah, I get it."

Chiron gazed at me sadly. The guy was three thousand years old. He'd seen hundreds of heroes die. He might not like it, but he was used to it. He probably knew better than to try to reassure me.

"No." Thalia said in a low voice. "This isn't fair. I reach sixteen against all odds and Percy gets his soul reaped by some dumb decision? Damn it he's always making dumb decisions!" Thalia pounded her fist on the table.

"Prophecies have double meanings," Michael Yew offered.

"Yeah, maybe we're taking it too literal." Connor Stoll added.

"Sure," I said. "A single choice shall end his days. That has tons of meanings, right?"

"Maybe we can stop it," Jake Mason offered. "The hero's soul, cursed blade shall reap. Maybe we could find this cursed blade and destroy it. Sounds like Kronos's scythe, right?" I hadn't thought about that, but it didn't matter if the cursed blade was Riptide or Kronos's scythe. Either way, I doubted we could stop the prophecy. A blade was supposed to reap my soul. As a general rule, I preferred not to have my soul reaped.

"Perhaps we should let Percy and Thalia think about these lines," Chiron said. "They need time—"

"No." I folded up the prophecy and shoved it into my pocket. I felt defiant and angry, though I wasn't sure who I was angry with. "I don't need time. If I die, I die. I can't worry about that, right?"

"Stop," Thalia said to me. I looked at her. I feel angry and defiant, but I don't know who I'm angry with. Who can I blame? The fates? My dad?

"Let's move on," I said. "We've got other problems. We've got a spy." Michael Yew scowled.

"A spy?" I told them what had happened on the Princess Andromeda—how Kronos had known we were coming, how he'd shown me the silver scythe pendant he'd used to communicate with someone at camp. Silena started to cry again, and Thalia put an arm around her shoulders.

"Well," Connor Stoll said uncomfortably, "We've suspected there might a spy for years, right? Somebody kept passing information to Luke—like the location of the Golden Fleece a couple of years ago. It must be somebody who knew him well." Maybe subconsciously, he glanced at

Thalia. She'd known Luke better than anyone, of course, but Connor looked away quickly. "Um, I mean, it could be anybody."

"Yes." Katie Gardner frowned at the Stoll brothers. She'd disliked them ever since they'd decorated the grass roof of the Demeter cabin with chocolate Easter bunnies. "Like one of Luke's siblings." Travis and Connor both started arguing with her.

"Stop!" Silena banged the table so hard her hot chocolate spilled. "Charlie's dead and . . . and you're all arguing like little kids!" She put her head down and began to sob. Hot chocolate trickled off the Ping-Pong table. Everybody looked ashamed.

"She's right," Pollux said at last. "Accusing each other doesn't help. We need to keep our eyes open for a silver necklace with a scythe charm. If Kronos had one, the spy probably does too."

Michael Yew grunted. "We need to find this spy before we plan our next operation. Blowing up the Princess Andromeda won't stop Kronos forever."

"No indeed," Chiron said. "In fact his next assault is already on the way."

I scowled. "You mean the 'bigger threat' Poseidon mentioned?" He and Thalia looked at each other like, It's time. Did I mention I hate it when they do that? "Percy," Chiron said, "We didn't want to tell you until you returned to camp. You needed a break with your . . . mortal friends." Thalia looked away when he said that. Is that what she's mad about, besides what she already said? I felt guilty. Then I felt angry that I felt guilty. I was allowed to have friends outside camp, right?

"Tell me what's happened," I said.

Chiron picked up a bronze goblet from the snack table. He tossed water onto the hot plate where we usually melted nacho cheese. Steam billowed up, making a rainbow in the fluorescent lights. Chiron fished a golden drachma out of his pouch, tossed it through the mist, and muttered, "O Iris, Goddess of the Rainbow, show us the threat."

The mist shimmered. I saw the familiar image of a smoldering volcano—Mount St. Helens. As I watched, the side of the mountain exploded. Fire, ash, and lava rolled out. A newscaster's voice was saying "—even larger than last year's eruption, and geologists warn that the mountain may not be done." I knew all about last year's eruption. I'd caused it. But this explosion was much worse. The mountain tore itself apart, collapsing inward, and an enormous form rose out of the smoke and lava like it was emerging from a manhole. I hoped the Mist would keep the humans from seeing it clearly, because what I saw would've caused panic and riots across the entire United States. The giant was bigger than anything I'd ever encountered. Even my demigod eyes couldn't make out its exact form through the ash and fire, but it was vaguely humanoid and so huge it could've used the Chrysler Building as a baseball bat. The mountain shook with a horrible rumbling, as if the monster were laughing.

"It's him," I said. "Typhon." I was seriously hoping Chiron would say something good, like No, that's our huge friend Leroy! He's going to help us! But no such luck.

He simply nodded. "The most horrible monster of all, the biggest single threat the gods ever faced. He has been freed from under the mountain at last. But this scene is from two days ago. Here is what is happening today." Chiron waved his hand and the image changed. I saw a bank of storm clouds rolling across the Midwest plains. Lightning flickered. Lines of tornadoes destroyed everything in their path—ripping up houses and trailers, tossing cars around like Matchbox toys. "Monumental floods," an announcer was saying. "Five states declared disaster areas as the freak storm system sweeps east, continuing its path of destruction." The cameras zoomed in on a column of storm bearing down on some Midwest city. I couldn't tell which one. Inside the storm I could see the giant—just small glimpses of his true form: a smoky arm, a dark clawed hand the size of a city block. His angry roar rolled across the plains like a nuclear blast. Other smaller forms darted through the clouds, circling the monster. I saw flashes of light, and I realized the giant was trying to swat them. I squinted and thought I saw a golden chariot flying into the blackness. Then some kind of huge bird—a monstrous owl—dived in to attack the giant.

"Are those . . . the gods?" I said.

"Yes, Percy," Chiron said. "They have been fighting him for days now, trying to slow him down. But Typhon is marching forward—toward New York. Toward Olympus."

I let that sink in. "How long until he gets here?"

"Unless the gods can stop him? Perhaps five days. Most of the Olympians are there . . . except your father, who has a war of his own to fight."

"But then who's guarding Olympus?"

Connor Stoll shook his head. "If Typhon gets to New York, it won't matter who's guarding Olympus." I thought about Kronos's words on the ship: I would love to see the terror in your eyes when you realize how I will destroy Olympus. Was this what he was talking about: an attack by Typhon? It was sure terrifying enough. But Kronos was always fooling us, misdirecting our attention. This seemed too obvious for him. And in my dream, the golden Titan had talked about several more challenges to come, as if Typhon were only the first.

"It's a trick," I said. "We have to warn the gods. Something else is going to happen."

Chiron looked at me gravely. "Something worse than Typhon? I hope not."

"We have to defend Olympus," I insisted. "Kronos has another attack planned."

"He did," Travis Stoll reminded me. "But you sunk his ship." Everyone was looking at me. They wanted some good news. They wanted to believe that at least I'd given them a little bit of hope.

I glanced at Thalia. I could tell we were thinking the same thing: What if the Princess Andromeda was a ploy? What if Kronos let us blow up that ship so we'd lower our guard? But I wasn't going to say that in front of Silena. Her boyfriend had sacrificed himself for that mission.

"Maybe you're right," I said, though I didn't believe it. I tried to imagine how things could get much worse. The gods were m the Midwest fighting a huge monster that had almost defeated them once before. Poseidon was under siege and losing a war against the sea Titan Oceanus. Kronos was still out there somewhere. Olympus was virtually undefended. The demigods of Camp Half-Blood were on our own with a spy in our midst. Oh, and according to the ancient prophecy, I was going to die when I turned sixteen—which happened to be in five days, the exact same time Typhon was supposed to hit New York. Almost forgot that.

"Well," Chiron said, "I think that's enough for one night." He waved his hand and the steam dissipated. The stormy battle of Typhon and the gods disappeared.

"That's an understatement," I muttered.

And the war council adjourned.

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	4. Chapter 4 Burning Metal & Scaring Satyrs

**I don't own the Percy Jackson Series.**

**Hope you enjoy. Reviews motivate me to update sooner!**

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**Thalia's P.O.V.**

Once again, I had a dream of the frizzy redhead, Rachel.

"I hope they're dreams," she said and then uncovered an easel. I suddenly felt like I was choking. The charcoal sketch on display was one of a young Luke Castellan. Luke looked to be about nine, with a wide grin, and an innocence that left long ago. He had no scar on his face like he does now. The sketch looked exactly like a portrait of Luke in his mom's house in Connecticut.

Then it was over.

All through the night I wondered about the dream and why I was showed it. Has Rachel been investigating our lives? How would she know that portrait? During breakfast Percy looked troubled and depressed. I didn't think that I looked any different, but I was really stuck on Rachel being in my dream, there had to be a reason. After breakfast Percy had to sort through Chiron's morning reports that normally he'd do his morning chore with Annabeth and I would do other things. I never really did a chore, it was usually more of a job. I would be in charge of arena clean up or something more productive. Anyway, since Annabeth left I've been tagging along on these chores.

"What's the news of the outside world?" I asked him.

He let out a breath of frustration, "Camp recruitment is down to zero, none of the satyrs of nature spirits have gotten any answers from Grover, and the hunters are still silent."

I rubbed his left shoulder, "Hey, don't get too worked up over it. You know Grover isn't dead, right? That's one blessing. Annabeth would not let the hunters be captured or anything, they're fine. We may not know all the details, but I definitely believe Annabeth is fine and Grover too."

Percy rubbed his face, "But there are so many things not on our side right now," he threw up his hands in agitation. "Annabeth's gone. Our number of demigods to help in the war is too low. Our camp can't stop fighting over trivial things like a flying chariot. Do they realize they may not possibly live to use the damn thing? The titans have a trick up their sleeve and will attack Olympus directly! What else are they doing while the gods battle Typhon? Sitting around eating bonbons- no offense to Silena. Beckendorf is dead, Lee Fletcher's dead, and I'm supposed to get my stupid soul reaped."

I jumped up. "I have had enough of your self pitying! Do you think I'm thrilled about the prophecy either? Yay, I live to see the guy I love, the only person on this planet I have, die. Yes, I'm worried about this war and the outcomes, but do you know how I deal with it? By spending my time with those who matter, like you, and trying to stop the titans from taking over a world that my brother has to grow up in!" I shouted. Not once had Percy asked about Jason since he came back to camp. Jason left maybe three weeks after Percy did. He needed to prepare the other camp, _his_ camp, for the war.

Percy was really getting mad, but about what? I told him what we both already knew. I expected to feel the ground rumble or feel some water, but nothing happened. Then he pulled me into a strong hug.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered. He pulled back and gave me a simple kiss. I searched his face wondering what had just changed in him. Was he maturing? No more temper tantrums? Yes, that was more of my thing but… something seemed different in his eyes. He let go of me saying he'd finished the reports and had some other things he had to do. He left me standing in the room with a strange feeling about him.

That afternoon we had an assembly at the campfire to burn Beckendorf's burial shroud and say our good-byes. Even the Ares and Apollo cabins called a temporary truce to attend. Beckendorf's shroud was made out of metal links, like chain mail. Percy was silent, but would still throw in a small smile. At the end we went over to Silena to give our condolences.

"Silena, you know Beckendorf carried your picture. He looked at it right before we went into battle. You meant a lot to him. You made the last year the best of his life." Percy told her. Silena excused herself to go cry, but I think that memory was good for her. She smiled before she started crying, at least.

"She's stronger than she looks," Clarisse muttered, almost to herself. "She'll survive."

"You could help with that," Percy suggested. "You could honor Beckendorf's memory by fighting with us."

"Not my problem," she growled. "My cabin doesn't get honor, I don't fight."

"All right," Percy told her. "I didn't want to bring this up, but you owe me one. You'd be rotting in a Cyclops's cave in the Sea of Monsters if it wasn't for me."

She clenched her jaw. "Any other favor, Percy. Not this. The Ares cabin has been dissed too many times. And don't think I don't know what people say about me behind my back."

I wanted to say, Well, it's true. But I took a lesson from Percy's book and I bit my tongue.

"So, what—you're just going to let Kronos crush us?" he asked.

"If you want my help so bad, tell Apollo to give us the chariot."

"You know what, Percy? We might be better off without the petty kids _acting_ like they can fight." I jabbed. Clarisse tried to charge me, but Chris Rodriguez, her boyfriend, got in between us.

"You better watch your back, _Grace_. Maybe I was wrong to think I could consider you a friend." Clarisse then stomped off.

"Why would Clarisse consider you as a friend?" Percy asked me when we were alone.

"Things happened while you were home," I simply said then walked back to my cabin.

I lay down on my bed wary of falling asleep. This past summer, after Jason left, I've been having nightmares about my mom. Since Luke's last plan for using my mom as bait didn't work out for him, he's been ruthless. Well, Kronos, is being ruthless. After officially taking Luke's body my mother's treatment has gotten worse. I've seen her locked into a room on the Princess Andromeda talking to no one while gulping down her wine. I think she was talking to Zeus. I've seen Luke convince her of Zeus' betrayal. With the combination of the booze and Luke's reminders of Zeus leaving her, her anger is fueling her to turn on the gods and be Kronos' number one fan.

**Percy's P.O.V.**

I walked into the arena, and a wall of darkness slammed into me.

"WOOF!" The next thing I knew I was flat on the ground with a huge paw on my chest and an oversize Brillopad tongue licking my face.

"Ow!" I said. "Hey, girl. Good to see you too. Ow!"

It took a few minutes for Mrs. O'Leary to calm down and get off me. By then I was pretty much drenched in dog drool. She wanted to play fetch, so I picked up a bronze shield and tossed it across the arena.

Mrs. O'Leary is the world's only friendly hellhound. I kind of inherited her when her previous owner died. She lived at camp, but Beckendorf . . . well, Beckendorf used to take care of her whenever I was gone. He had smelted Mrs. O'Leary's favorite bronze chewing bone. He'd forged her collar with the little smiley face and a crossbones name tag. Next to me, Beckendorf had been her best friend. Thinking about that made me sad all over again, but I threw the shield a few more times because Mrs. O'Leary insisted.

Soon she started barking—a sound slightly louder than an artillery gun—like she needed to go for a walk. The other campers didn't think it was funny when she went to the bathroom in the arena. It had caused more than one unfortunate slip-and-slide accident. So I opened the gates of the arena, and she bounded straight toward the woods.

I jogged after her, not too concerned that she was getting ahead. Nothing in the woods could threaten Mrs. O'Leary. Even the dragons and giant scorpions ran away when she came close.

When I finally tracked her down, she wasn't using the facilities. She was in a familiar clearing where the Council of Cloven Elders had once put Grover on trial. The place didn't look so good. The grass had turned yellow. The three topiary thrones had lost all their leaves. But that's not what surprised me. In the middle of the glade stood the weirdest trio I'd ever seen: Juniper the tree nymph, Nico di Angelo, and a very old, very fat satyr.

Nico was the only one who didn't seem freaked out by Mrs. O'Leary's appearance. He looked pretty much like I'd seen him in my dream—an aviator's jacket, black jeans, and a T-shirt with dancing skeletons on it, like one of those Day of the Dead pictures. His Stygian iron sword hung at his side. He was only twelve, but he looked much older and sadder.

He nodded when he saw me, then went back to scratching Mrs. O'Leary's ears. She sniffed his legs like he was the most interesting thing since rib-eye steaks. Being the son of Hades, he'd probably been traveling in all sorts of hellhound-friendly places.

The old satyr didn't look nearly so happy. "Will someone—what is this underworld creature doing in my forest!" He waved his arms and trotted on his hooves as if the grass were hot. "You there, Percy Jackson! Is this your beast?"

"Sorry, Leneus," I said. "That's your name, right?"

The satyr rolled his eyes. His fur was dust-bunny gray, and a spiderweb grew between his horns. His belly would've made him an invincible bumper car.

"Well, of course I'm Leneus. Don't tell me you've forgotten a member of the Council so quickly. Now, call off your beast!"

"WOOF!" Mrs. O'Leary said happily.

The old satyr gulped. "Make it go away! Juniper, I will not help you under these circumstances!"

Juniper turned toward me. She was pretty in a dryad-y way, with her purple gossamer dress and her elfish face, but her eyes were green-tinted with chlorophyll from crying.

"Percy," she sniffled. "I was just asking about Grover. I know something's happened. He wouldn't stay gone this long if he wasn't in trouble. I was hoping that Leneus—" "

I told you!" the satyr protested. "You are better off without that traitor."

Juniper stamped her foot. "He is not a traitor! He's the bravest satyr ever, and I want to know where he is!"

"WOOF!"

Leneus's knees started knocking. "I . . . I won't answer questions with this hellhound sniffing my tail!"

Nico looked like he was trying to not crack up. "I'll walk the dog," he volunteered. He whistled, and Mrs. O'Leary bounded after him to the far end of the grove.

Leneus huffed indignantly and brushed the twigs off his shirt. "Now, as I was trying to explain, young lady, your boyfriend has not sent any reports since we voted him into exile."

"You tried to vote him into exile," I corrected. "Chiron and Dionysus stopped you."

"Bah! They are honorary Council members. It wasn't a proper vote."

"I'll tell Dionysus you said that."

Leneus paled. "I only meant . . . Now see here, Jackson. This is none of your business."

"Grover's my friend," I said. "He wasn't lying to you about Pan's death. I saw it myself. You were just too scared to accept the truth."

Leneus's lips quivered. "No! Grover's a liar and good riddance. We're better off without him."

I pointed at the withered thrones. "If things are going so well, where are your friends? Looks like your Council hasn't been meeting lately."

"Maron and Silenus . . . I . . . I'm sure they'll be back," he said, but I could hear the panic in his voice. "They're just taking some time off to think. It's been a very unsettling year.

"It's going to get a lot more unsettling," I promised. "Leneus, we need Grover. There's got to be a way you can find him with your magic."

The old satyr's eye twitched. "I'm telling you, I've heard nothing. Perhaps he's dead."

Juniper choked back a sob.

"He's not dead," I said. "I can feel that much."

"Empathy links," Leneus said disdainfully. "Very unreliable."

"So ask around," I insisted. "Find him. There's a war coming. Grover was preparing the nature spirits."

"Without my permission! And it's not our war."

I grabbed him by the shirt, which seriously wasn't like me, but the stupid old goat was making me mad. "Listen, Leneus. When Kronos attacks, he's going to have packs of hellhounds. He's going to destroy everything in his path—mortals, gods, demigods. Do you think he'll let the satyrs go free? You're supposed to be a leader. So LEAD. Get out there and see what's happening. Find Grover and bring Juniper some news. Now, GO!" I didn't push him very hard, but he was kind of top-heavy. He fell on his furry rump, then scrambled to his hooves and ran away with his belly jiggling.

"Grover will never be accepted! He will die an outcast!"

When he'd disappeared into the bushes, Juniper wiped her eyes. "I'm sorry, Percy. I didn't mean to get you involved. Leneus is still a lord of the Wild. You don't want to make an enemy of him."

"No problem," I said. "I've got worse enemies than overweight satyrs."

Nico walked back to us. "Good job, Percy. Judging from the trail of goat pellets, I'd say you shook him up pretty well."

I was afraid I knew why Nico was here, but I tried for a smile. "Welcome back. Did you come by just to see Juniper?"

He blushed. "Um, no. That was an accident. I kind of . . . dropped into the middle of their conversation."

"He scared us to death!" Juniper said. "Right out of the shadows. But, Nico, you are the son of Hades and all. Are you sure you haven't heard anything about Grover?"

Nico shifted his weight. "Juniper, like I tried to tell you . . . even if Grover died, he would reincarnate into something else in nature. I can't sense things like that, only mortal souls."

"But if you do hear anything?" she pleaded, putting her hand on his arm. "Anything at all?"

Nico's cheeks got even brighter red. "Uh, you bet. I'll keep my ears open."

"We'll find him, Juniper," I promised. "Grover's alive, I'm sure. There must be a simple reason why he hasn't contacted us."

She nodded glumly. "I hate not being able to leave the forest. He could be anywhere, and I'm stuck here waiting. Oh, if that silly goat has gotten himself hurt—" Mrs. O'Leary bounded back over and took an interest in Juniper's dress. Juniper yelped. "Oh, no you don't! I know about dogs and trees. I'm gone!"

She went poof into green mist. Mrs. O'Leary looked disappointed, but she lumbered off to find another target, leaving Nico and me alone. Nico tapped his sword on the ground. A tiny mound of animal bones erupted from the dirt. They knit themselves together into a skeletal field mouse and scampered off. "I was sorry to hear about Beckendorf."

A lump formed in my throat. "How did you—"

"I talked to his ghost."

"Oh . . . right." I'd never get used to the fact that this twelve-year-old kid spent more time talking with the dead than the living. "Did he say anything?"

"He doesn't blame you. He figured you'd be beating yourself up, and he said you shouldn't."

I placed a hand to the back of my neck. "I could have tried something different…"

Nico just gave me a pointed look.

"Is he going to try for rebirth?"

Nico shook his head. "He's staying in Elysium. Said he's waiting for someone. Not sure what he meant, but he seems okay with death."

It wasn't much comfort, but it was something. "I had a vision you were on Mount Tam," I told Nico. "Was that—"

"Real," he said. "I didn't mean to be spying on the Titans, but I was in the neighborhood."

"Doing what?" Nico tugged at his sword belt. "Following a lead on . . . you know, my family."

I nodded. I knew his past was a painful subject. Until two years ago, he and his sister Bianca had been frozen in time at a place called the Lotus Hotel and Casino. They'd been there for like seventy years. Eventually a mysterious lawyer rescued them and checked them into a boarding school, but Nico had no memories of his life before the casino. He didn't know anything about his mother. He didn't know who the lawyer was, or why they'd been frozen in time or allowed to go free. After Bianca died and left Nico alone, he'd been obsessed with finding answers.

"So how did it go?" I asked. "Any luck?"

"No," he murmured. "But I may have a new lead soon."

"What's the lead?"

Nico chewed his lip. "That's not important right now. You know why I'm here."

A feeling of dread started to build in my chest. Ever since Nico first proposed his plan for beating Kronos last summer, I'd had nightmares about it. He would show up occasionally and press me for an answer, but I kept putting him off.

"Nico, I don't know," I said. "It seems pretty extreme."

"You've got Typhon coming in, what . . . a week? Most of the other Titans are unleashed now and on Kronos's side. Maybe it's time to think extreme." I looked back toward the camp. Even from this distance I could hear the Ares and Apollo campers fighting again, yelling curses and spouting bad poetry.

"They're no match for the Titan army," Nico said. "You know that. When it comes down to it, it's you, Thalia, and Luke. If Thalia had to fight Luke, do you think she could _really_ do it?" Nico asked.

Thinking about that gave me the chills. Thalia stood up to Luke before, but was that out of blind anger when she learned of everything that had happened while she was a tree? She also had her mom and Jason added into the mix. With Jason being willing to fight for his mom back, is that now a concern to Thalia? Would she keep him alive to bargain for her mom? Thalia wouldn't have the physical strength either to fight Kronos. I did have it. I was hopelessly outmatched, one cut to my arm almost killed me. He was impenetrable.

"We can give you the same power," Nico urged. "You heard the Great Prophecy. Unless you want to have your soul reaped by a cursed blade . . ."

I wondered how Nico had heard the prophecy— probably from some ghost. "You can't prevent a prophecy," I said.

"But you can fight it." Nico had a strange, hungry light in his eyes. "You can become invincible."

"Maybe we should wait. Try to fight without—"

"No!" Nico snarled. "It has to be now!"

I stared at him. I hadn't seen his temper flare like that in a long time. "Urn, you sure you're okay?"

He took a deep breath. "Percy, all I mean . . . when the fighting starts, we won't be able to make the journey. This is our last chance. I'm sorry if I'm being too pushy, but two years ago my sister gave her life to protect you. I want you to honor that. Do whatever it takes to stay alive and defeat Kronos."

I didn't like the idea, but thinking of Thalia and what she'd said about things happened when I was gone fired me up. Well, I'm back now and I will protect her from the prophecy as best as I can.


	5. Scorched Cookies and Moldy Sandwiches

**Percy's P.O.V.**

I don't recommend shadow travel if you're scared of:

a) The dark

b) Cold shivers up your spine

c) Strange noises

d) Going so fast you feel like your face is peeling off

In other words, I thought it was awesome. One minute I couldn't see anything. I could only feel Mrs. O'Leary's fur and my fingers wrapped around the bronze links of her dog collar. The next minute the shadows melted into a new scene.

We were on a cliff in the woods of Connecticut. At least, it looked like Connecticut from the few times I'd been there: lots of trees, low stone walls, big houses. Down one side of the cliff, a highway cut through a ravine. Down the other side was someone's backyard. The property was huge—more wilderness than lawn. The house was a two-story white Colonial. Despite the fact that it was right on the other side of the hill from a highway, it felt like it was in the middle of nowhere. I could see a light glowing m the kitchen window. A rusty old swing set stood under an apple tree.

I couldn't imagine living in a house like this, with an actual yard and everything. I'd lived in a tiny apartment or a school dorm my whole life. If this was Luke's home, I wondered why he'd ever wanted to leave.

Mrs. O'Leary staggered. I remembered what Nico had said about shadow travel draining her, so I slipped off her back. She let out a huge toothy yawn that would've scared a T. Rex, then turned in a circle and flopped down so hard the ground shook.

Nico appeared right next to me, as if the shadows had darkened and created him. He stumbled, but I caught his arm. "I'm okay," he managed, rubbing his eyes.

"How did you do that?"

"Practice. A few times running into walls. A few accidental trips to China."

Mrs. O'Leary started snoring. If it hadn't been for the roar of traffic behind us, I'm sure she would've woken up the whole neighborhood.

"Are you going to take a nap too?" I asked Nico.

He shook his head. "The first time I shadow traveled, I passed out for a week. Now it just makes me a little drowsy, but I can't do it more than once or twice a night. Mrs. O'Leary won't be going anywhere for a while."

"So we've got some quality time in Connecticut." I gazed at the white Colonial house. "What now?"

"We ring the doorbell," Nico said.

If I were Luke's mom, I would not have opened my door at night for two strange kids. But I wasn't anything like Luke's mom. I knew that even before we reached the front door. The sidewalk was lined with those little stuffed beanbag animals you see in gift shops. There were miniature lions, pigs, dragons, hydras, even a teeny Minotaur in a little Minotaur diaper. Judging from their sad shape, the beanbag creatures had been sitting out here a long time—since the snow melted last spring at least. One of the hydras had a tree sapling sprouting between its necks.

The front porch was infested with wind chimes. Shiny bits of glass and metal clinked in the breeze. Brass ribbons tinkled like water and made me realize I needed to use the bathroom. I didn't know how Ms. Castellan could stand all the noise. The front door was painted turquoise. The name CASTELLAN was written in English, and below in Greek: Διοικητής φρουρίου.

Nico looked at me. "Ready?" He'd barely tapped the door when it swung open.

"Luke!" the old lady cried happily.

She looked like someone who enjoyed sticking her fingers in electrical sockets. Her white hair stuck out in tufts all over her head. Her pink housedress was covered in scorch marks and smears of ash. When she smiled, her face looked unnaturally stretched, and the high-voltage light in her eyes made me wonder if she was blind.

"Oh, my dear boy!" She hugged Nico.

I was trying to figure out why she thought Nico was Luke (they looked absolutely nothing alike), when she smiled at me and said, "Luke!" She forgot all about Nico and gave me a hug. She smelled like burned cookies. She was as thin as a scarecrow, but that didn't stop her from almost crushing me.

"Come in!" she insisted. "I have your lunch ready!" She ushered us inside.

The living room was even weirder than the front lawn. Mirrors and candles filled every available space. I couldn't look anywhere without seeing my own reflection. Above the mantel, a little bronze Hermes flew around the second hand of a ticking clock. I tried to imagine the god of messengers ever falling in love with this old woman, but the idea was too bizarre.

Then I noticed the framed picture on the mantel, and I froze. Last night I had a dream of Rachel throwing darts at my face. After that she moved to her latest art pieces that gave me demigod chills. Rachel painted a hand coming down on the Empire State Building- which I believe to be Typhon when he makes it to Manhattan. The other piece was a charcoal sketch of Luke. This framed picture was exactly like Rachel's sketch— Luke around nine years old, with blond hair and a big smile and two missing teeth. The lack of a scar on his face made him look like a different person—carefree and happy. How could Rachel have known about that picture?

"This way, my dear!" Ms. Castellan steered me toward the back of the house. "Oh, I told them you would come back. I knew it!"

She sat us down at the kitchen table. Stacked on the counter were hundreds—I mean hundreds—of Tupperware boxes with peanut butter and jelly sandwiches inside. The ones on the bottom were green and fuzzy, like they'd been there for a long time. The smell reminded me of my sixth grade locker—and that's not a good thing.

On top of the oven was a stack of cookie sheets. Each one had a dozen burned cookies on it. In the sink was a mountain of empty plastic Kool-Aid pitchers. A beanbag Medusa sat by the faucet like she was guarding the mess. Ms. Castellan started humming as she got out peanut butter and jelly and started making a new sandwich. Something was burning in the oven. I got the feeling more cookies were on the way.

Above the sink, taped all around the window, were dozens of little pictures cut from magazines and newspaper ads—pictures of Hermes from the FTD Flowers logo and Quickie Cleaners, pictures of the caduceus from medical ads.

My heart sank. I wanted to get out of that room- not to mention I still needed to go to the bathroom, but Ms. Castellan kept smiling at me as she made the sandwich, like she was making sure I didn't bolt.

Nico coughed. "Um, Ms. Castellan?"

"Mm?"

"We need to ask you about your son."

"Oh, yes! They told me he would never come back. But I knew better." She patted my cheek affectionately, giving me peanut butter racing stripes.

"When did you last see him?" Nico asked.

Her eyes lost focus.

"He was so young when he left," she said wistfully. "Third grade. That's too young to run away! He said he'd be back for lunch. And I waited. He likes peanut butter sandwiches and cookies and Kool-Aid. He'll be back for lunch very soon. . . ." Then she looked at me and smiled. "Why, Luke, there you are! You look so handsome. You have your father's eyes." She turned toward the pictures of Hermes above the sink. "Now, there's a good man. Yes, indeed. He comes to visit me, you know." The clock kept ticking in the other room.

I wiped the peanut butter off my face and looked at Nico pleadingly, like _Can we get out of here now?_

"Ma'am," Nico said. "What, uh . . . what happened to your eyes?"

I know I was thinking it, but maybe all the time Nico spent with the dead caused him to lose some manners.

Her gaze seemed fractured—like she was trying to focus on him through a kaleidoscope. "Why, Luke, you know the story. It was right before you were born, wasn't it? I'd always been special, able to see through the . . . whatever-they-call-it."

"The Mist?" I said.

"Yes, dear." She nodded encouragingly. "And they offered me an important job. That's how special I was!"

I glanced at Nico, but he looked as confused as I was.

"What sort of job?" I asked. "What happened?"

Ms. Castellan frowned. Her knife hovered over the sandwich bread.

"Dear me, it didn't work out, did it? Your father warned me not to try. He said it was too dangerous. But I had to. It was my destiny! And now . . . I still can't get the images out of my head. They make everything seem so fuzzy. Would you like some cookies?" She pulled a tray out of the oven and dumped a dozen lumps of chocolate chip charcoal on the table.

"Luke was so kind," Ms. Castellan murmured. "He left to protect me, you know. He said if he went away, the monsters wouldn't threaten me. But I told him the monsters are no threat! They sit outside on the sidewalk all day, and they never come in."

She picked up the little stuffed Medusa from the windowsill. "Do they, Mrs. Medusa? No, no threat at all."

She beamed at me. "I'm so glad you came home. I knew you weren't ashamed of me!"

I shifted in my seat. I imagined being Luke sitting at this table, eight or nine years old, and just beginning to realize that my mother wasn't all there.

"Ms. Castellan," I said.

"Mom," she corrected.

"Um, yeah. Have you seen Luke since he left home?"

"Well, of course!"

I didn't know if she was imagining that or not. For all I knew, every time the mailman came to the door he was Luke.

But Nico sat forward expectantly.

"When?" he asked. "When did Luke visit you last?"

"Well, it was . . . Oh goodness . . ." A shadow passed across her face. "The last time, he looked so different. A scar. A terrible scar, and his voice so full of pain . . ."

"His eyes," I said. "Were they gold?"

"Gold?" She blinked. "No. How silly. Luke has blue eyes. Beautiful blue eyes!"

So Luke really had been here, and this had happened before last summer—before he'd turned into Kronos.

"Ms. Castellan?" Nico put his hand on the old woman's arm. "This is very important. Did he ask you for anything?"

She frowned as if trying to remember. "My—my blessing. Isn't that sweet?" She looked at us uncertainly. "He was going to a river, and he said he needed my blessing. I gave it to him. Of course I did."

Nico looked at me triumphantly. "Thank you, ma'am. That's all the information we—"

Ms. Castellan gasped. She doubled over, and her cookie tray clattered to the floor. Nico and I jumped to our feet.

"Ms. Castellan?" I said.

"AHHHH," She straightened.

I scrambled away and almost fell over the kitchen table, because her eyes—her eyes were glowing green.

"My child," she rasped in a much deeper voice. "Must protect him! Hermes, help! Not my child! Not his fate—no!" She grabbed Nico by the shoulders and began to shake him as if to make him understand. "Not his fate!"

Nico made a strangled scream and pushed her away. He gripped the hilt of his sword. "Percy, we need to get out—"

Suddenly Ms. Castellan collapsed.

I lurched forward and caught her before she could hit the edge of the table. I managed to get her into a chair.

"Ms. C?" I asked.

She muttered something incomprehensible and shook her head.

"Goodness. I . . . I dropped the cookies. How silly of me."

She blinked, and her eyes were back to normal—or at least, what they had been before. The green glow was gone.

I glanced at Nico, who mouthed the word _Leave._

"We have to go," Nico said urgently. "We'll tell Luke . . . uh, we'll tell him you said hello."

"But you can't leave!" Ms. Castellan got shakily to her feet, and I backed away. I felt silly being scared of a frail old woman, but the way her voice had changed, the way she'd grabbed Nico . . . "Hermes will be here soon," she promised. "He'll want to see his boy!"

She tried to stop us, to offer us Kool-Aid, but I had to get out of that house- and I still needed to pee. On the front porch, she grabbed my wrist and I almost jumped out of my skin.

"Luke, at least be safe. Promise me you'll be safe."

"I will . . . Mom." That made her smile.

She released my wrist, and as she closed the front door I could hear her talking to the candles: "You hear that? He will be safe. I told you he would be!"

As the door shut, Nico and I ran. The little beanbag animals on the sidewalk seemed to grin at us as we passed.

While we were busy chatting up a possessed woman, Mrs. O'Leary made a friend back at the cliff.

A cozy campfire crackled in a ring of stones. A girl about eight years old was sitting cross-legged next to my hellhound, scratching Mrs. O'Leary's ear.

The girl had mousy brown hair and a simple brown dress. She wore a scarf over her head so she looked like a pioneer kid- like the ghost of Little House on the Prairie or something. She poked the fire with a stick, and it seemed to glow more richly red than a normal fire.

"Hello," she said.

Now, my first thought was that she was a monster. When you're a demigod and you find a sweet little girl alone in the woods -that's typically about the time where you draw your weapon and attack. I mean, yeah, I was rattled by the encounter with Ms. Castellan, but this is definitely not your average, _Oh you have a puppy? I just love puppies! Can I pet her?_, run-in.

But Nico bowed to her, "Hello again, Lady." Well, I may not know her name, but Nico said _Lady_, with a capital "L" as in a title -it could be her name like the dog from the Disney movie.

She studied me with eyes as red as the firelight. I decided it was safest to bow.

"Percy Jackson," she said. "Would you like some dinner?"

After staring at moldy peanut butter sandwiches and burnt cookies, I didn't have much of an appetite, but the girl waved her hand and a picnic appeared at the edge of the fire. There were plates of roast beef, baked potatoes, buttered carrots, fresh bread, and a whole bunch of other foods that I hadn't had in a long time. My stomach started rumble. It was the kind of home-cooked meal that people were supposed to have but never do. The girl made a five-foot long dog biscuit appear in front of Mrs. O'Leary, who happily began tearing it to shreds.

I sat next to Nico. We picked up our food, and I was about to dig in when I thought better of it. I scraped part of my meal into the flames, the way we do at camp.

"For the gods."

The little girl smiled, "Thank you. As tender of the flame, I get a share of every sacrifice, you know."

"I recognize you now," I said. "The first time I came to camp, you were sitting by the fire, in the middle of the commons area."

"You did not stop to talk," the girl recalled sadly. "Alas, most never do. Nico talked to me. He was the first in many years. Everyone rushes about. No time for visiting family."

"You're Hestia, Goddess of the Hearth."


End file.
